To Be Your Equal
by Wildmagic-Warrior
Summary: An alternate ending to "Thor" in which Odin was killed by Laufey. When Thor destroyed the bifrost, both he and Loki ended up on the bridge instead of dangling from the edge. Unfortunately, I do not own any of these characters or settings.


_**I never wanted the throne! I only ever wanted to be your equal.**_

The bifrost was broken, and so was Loki Odinsson. His armor had stopped him from being killed right away, but the trickster didn't have Mjolnir to protect him. _That, _like so many other things, was a gift bestowed only on his brother. The god coughed hard and felt broken ribs shift painfully. He gasped and would have cried out, if getting air _into _his lungs hadn't been difficult enough on its own. The cracked ribs probably weren't from the bifrost's explosion, he decided. More likely, they had occurred when Thor laid Mjolnir on him. The hammer had been forged in the heart of a dying star; no weapon in the universe could match it for power. Certainly the chest cavity of a small frost giant was no trouble, but Mjolnir was loath to kill a king of Asgard. The god had been spared, but not for long.

**_What happened on Earth that turned you so soft? Don't tell me it was that woman!_**

Raising his head a fraction, Loki caught a glimpse of his brother, kneeling on the edge of the shattered rainbow bridge. He curled a lip in disgust. Thor- mighty warrior, heir to the throne, always casting a shadow on his younger sibling. He was brash, stubborn, arrogant, impatient… and yet, something on Earth had changed him. A _mortal_, of all things. Thor had probably vowed that he would return for her. Idiot. Loki had tried to warn him- _"What are you doing? If you destroy the bridge, you'll never see her again!"_-but had he listened? Of course not. He never did. He had gone right on ahead and smashed the rainbow bridge to pieces, then used Mjolnir to fly clear of the wreckage as though _his_ life were the only one at stake. Loki watched him stand up and smirked slightly, knowing exactly what Thor expected to see when he turned around. A trickster was always on his feet, one more ace up his sleeve. Well. Not this time.

**__**_**Is it madness? Is it? IS IT?**_**__**

This time, Loki was lying flat on his back, as shattered as the bridge. Both his lance and helmet were out of reach, not that he could have kept fighting. His nose was bleeding sluggishly, as were a number of cuts on his hands and face. He had a split lip and, on top of all that, several broken ribs. His green cape was torn and he had a huge dent in the chest of his armor. He was used to emotional pain, but this was something new. He had always fought with magic; the sensation of being physically wounded was not a good one. The look on Thor's face as he turned around very nearly broke the trickster's heart- the god of thunder rushed forwards, crying "Brother!" He never listened, did he? Not even to the important things. Loki had already informed him that they were not related, but he seemed to have dismissed the words as soon as they reached him. The god shook his head, a painful movement, and replied, "No, Thor. No. I was never family to you." His voice was no more than a harsh whisper, and the statement ended in a bloody cough.

**_So I'm no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me?_**

The thought that he might die here was a discomforting one; there were so many things he had yet to do, one of which was make sure that Thor knew the truth about him. With a flick of his wrist, the trickster conjured the relic he had taken from the armory and laid a hand on it. A deep blue tinge spread up his arm; when it reached his face, his eyes changed from dark green to deep red. The god of thunder stopped dead, then backed up a few steps and turned away. In that moment, Loki realized that there was only one way to escape from the cage of lies and hatred that he had inadvertently locked himself in.

_****_What, because I... I... I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?_****_

He hid from view and stood up very, very carefully, conjuring as solid a copy of himself as he could manage. It drained more of his magic than usual; he suspected that this was because a lot of his power was going towards keeping himself alive. He would have to rest for a long time, but if left to sleep in peace he would eventually heal. He "unconjured" the Casket, tucking it away into the nothing-space from where he could pull it at need. The god coughed again and wiped blood from his mouth onto his sleeve, grimacing. He would need a new set of clothes as well, although he had no idea where he might procure them.

_**_**Am I... cursed?  
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The trickster froze when Thor turned back around, and looked on in shock as he fell to his knees, gathered the doppelganger up in his arms, and hugged it tight. "You may have frost giant blood," he said quietly, "But you will _always_ be my little brother." Tears filled Loki's eyes; after a few moments he swallowed hard and forced himself to speak past them. He whispered his last words to the double, who repeated what he said.

"_Please, Thor, don't let me die."_

"I won't, Loki. I won't."

"_I'm scared, brother."_

"It's alright. I'm here. I'll always be here for you."

The trickster turned away as the copy closed its eyes, not wanting to see the look on Thor's face as it died. Conjuring a staff to lean on, he took a few steps towards the palace and disappeared, warping space around himself in order to get there quickly. For a moment there was the faintest smell of fresh rain, and then the doppelganger vanished with a crackle of green sparks. Scrambling backwards with a yell, Thor grabbed Mjolnir and jumped to his feet. He swung around with a roar, fully expecting to find his brother standing behind him. His voice died away when he saw no trace of Loki except for his lance and helmet, lying where they had fallen. He turned again, bewildered and betrayed, but still there was no sign of the dark god. _"Loki!"_ he shouted furiously, _"Where are you?"_ There was no answer, and yet for a long time Thor stood on the broken bridge awaiting one.

_****_Look at you. The mighty Thor, with all your strength. What good does it do you now, eh?_****_

The sound of approaching horses made the god of thunder swing around, hammer in hand, to face the riders. Sif was in the lead; the Warriors Three and a number of guards were not far behind. The goddess pulled her horse to a hard stop mere feet from Thor and dismounted, barking, "Thor! The Casket-" She spotted Loki's abandoned lance and helmet, and dropped into abrupt silence. "He fell," the god lied, not wanting to try and explain what had really happened. "What were you going to say about the Casket?" Sif swallowed, then said, "Two guards heard a disturbance in the armory. When they went down to check… they found that it had been returned."

_**This is goodbye, brother, forever. Farewell.**_


End file.
